


fuck, i’m lonely

by Bellelaide



Category: Men’s Football RPF
Genre: F/F, They are all women, if you don’t like lesbian sex DONT READ xxxxx, spurs ladies, this is pretty much just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 04:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20325472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellelaide/pseuds/Bellelaide
Summary: What Harry really, really wanted, was to fuck Dele or Eric.The problem was, Dele and Eric were together. Well, not together, per se - but they were best friends, and Harry knew they did stuff sometimes, and she knew Eric was madly in love with Dele, and there was no way she could get in the middle of all that.





	fuck, i’m lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Complete fucking self indulgence. Not even worth reading, really, but sometimes you just get sick of writing about dicks and this is the product of one of those times for me. So, here’s a couple thousand words of gender swap smut xxxx

Harry was done with men. 

She’d had enough. Publicly dating John Stones had crashed and burned in a spectacular way, his cheating splashed across every tabloid in the nation. Harry was fucking humiliated - she’d supported him at the World Cup, taken part in all those wag photos and been in all the group chats. Then John fucked some insta model in a fucking Asda car park, got caught, and now Harry was single and had sworn to celibacy. 

Which was fine, because she didn’t really like having sex that much anyway. She liked all the foreplay and stuff, but actually having sex with a penis wasn’t her favourite thing in the world. So she decided to throw herself into work and her friends and her family and pretend John bastard Stones didn’t exist. 

Initially, forgetting about men was easy. Harry played for Tottenham Hotspur F.C. Women, a dream she’d harboured since she was old enough to be taken to games in a little Spurs onesie. With the beginning of the season came exhaustion and happiness, the feeling that Harry was exactly where she was meant to be, her talent something no fuck boy could touch. 

The other girls were so good with her, too. Dele spent loads of time checking up on her and keeping Harry busy, even though she acted like she was above dealing with broken hearts caused by stupid boys. She would come round and get into Harry’s bed with her and play with her hair for ages, yammering on about all the Spurs ladies gossip whilst Harry just hummed happily. 

Harry was half asleep when Dele told her that Paulo and Jan were definitely fucking, so when she went to work the next day, she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t dreamed the news - until she saw Jan stretch up onto her tip toes and press a kiss to Paulo’s neck, her slender fingers swiping Paulo’s shiny hair off her skin so she could put her lips there instead. It was a quick thing, a tiny thing, and it made Harry’s cheeks burn. 

She was no prude, and she knew footie players got together all the bloody time, but there was something about it being Jan and Paulo that felt different. Jan was one of Harry’s best friends at Spurs - she was this goofy, funny, _kind_ little power house, all auburn hair and pouty lips and she didn’t shave her pubes, which Harry thought was _so fucking cool_ (though when she’d said as much to Eric, she’d scoffed and rolled her eyes and said ‘no one shaves their pussy anymore, Winksy. Harry’d suddenly been very self conscious of his poor bald vagina). 

The thing was, Harry kind of idolised Jan, and they all knew Paulo was the hottest girl in the world - Harry even wanted to shag her. Paulo was six foot tall and had a six pack and bright blue eyes, and every lesbian within a three inch radius of women’s football had tried it on with her. Paulo didn’t date within the profession, though - she’d rejected Dele four times alone - and so it was particularly astonishing when the thing with Jan came to light. 

Harry went home that night after seeing them kiss for the first time and lay on her stomach in bed wondering what their sex life was like. She spent ages worrying over whether or not they used things like dildos, and if they did, who took it. She wondered how Jan knew to eat a girl out, because she’d only ever had sex with boys, as far as Harry was aware. 

And then it occurred to Harry - if Jan could find and be happy with a girl, maybe Harry could too. She’d never really identified as anything other than straight, but she’d always been in the ‘never say never’ camp, and the more she thought about it now, the more she wanted to try it. She performed a mental run down of available Spurs women - Toby, Sonny, Tanguy - and frowned. She didn’t particularly fancy any of them, not really. She would’ve fucked Jan happily, or Paulo, but obviously they were out of the equation now. 

What Harry really, really wanted, was to fuck Dele or Eric. Dele was all tattoos and smooth skin and masses of hair - billions of it, thick and curly and falling down her back so long that if it was straightened it’d probably hit her knees. And it smelled of _coconuts_, and Harry loved that, and she had really nice boobs and really long fingers and really pillowy lips. Then there was Eric - as tall as Paulo with the shortest blonde hair, muscles that went on forever and ever, fingers so thick she had to buy men’s rings to go on them, and she was always biting at her lips and licking at her teeth and Harry felt very, very little next to her, in a way that turned her on more than she’d care to admit. 

The problem was, Dele and Eric were together. Well, not together, per se - but they were best friends, and Harry knew they did stuff sometimes, and she knew Eric was madly in love with Dele, and there was no way she could get in the middle of all that. So she wouldn’t find the love of her life at work, Harry decided - but that was fine. There were plenty of apps for things like that. 

Harry settled down on the couch one night with her bunny slippers on and a glass of Pinot in hand. She pulled her hair into a bun atop her head and steeled herself, taking a big gulp of wine and unlocking her phone. Harry changed her Tinder settings with her heart thudding in her chest, from Men only to Women only. Images of pretty girls flooded her screen, and Harry swiped through them tentatively, spending less time poring over bios and photos as she did with men, and more time swiping right in giddy eagerness. 

There were lots of accounts Harry was certain were fake, and lots of men and women looking for a third - which was gross - but plenty of nice looking women, too, of all different varieties. Harry sipped her wine as she swiped, cheeks pinking when the matches started coming in. Girls were messaging her, asking about being a footballer and asking how she was and just generally being so much less threatening than men tended to be. 

Harry struck up a good conversation with one girl, a primary teacher called Katie who had kind eyes and long blonde hair, and she found herself laughing a lot and agreeing to swap Snapchat usernames, and Harry fell asleep with her phone in her hand and the exciting thought that she might actually get to go on a nice date with this girl. 

Harry sprang up in bed the next morning with a start. She might actually get to go on a date. With a girl. And she didn’t know where the fuck to start. With panic washing over her, Harry took out her phone and scrolled through her WhatsApp messages. She could text Jan and ask, but maybe that was a little weird, since Jan had a girlfriend now and stuff and it might look like Harry was hitting on her. She couldn’t ask Sonny, because they never spoke about that kind of thing, and she wasn’t really ready to tell everyone that this was something she was doing. 

Harry pulled up her group chat with Dele and Eric and, after taking a deep breath, wrote: 

Can you two come over to mine later please? Got a date and need ur help 

Eric replied first, saying ‘sure, lovely’ and Dele was a couple of minutes behind with ‘ugh I can’t be bothered leaving the house but FINE Winksy since it’s you’. 

Then, with Dele and Eric on board, Harry went to her conversation with Katie and asked ‘I know this is a bit forward, but would you like to go for a drink tomorrow?’ 

Then, before she could work herself up too much about what she was doing, Harry went for a nice, long bath. 

** 

Eric arrived first, because she was never ever late. Harry had been borderline panicking all day, working herself up over going on a tinder date, and going on a tinder date with a girl. After her bath she saw that Katie had said yes, she’d love to go for a drink, and Harry had run on the treadmill for over an hour until her brain was white noise and her legs were aching. 

So by the time Eric rolled in in a cloud of aftershave and warm cosy clothes and soft round face, Harry was needier than usual. She pulled Eric down on the couch and flopped down on top of her, tucking her head into Eric’s shoulder and sighing happily when Eric brought her fingers up to card through Harry’s hair. 

“You’ve got a - a tinder date? With a girl?!” Eric said gently, and Harry nodded against her. “Harry - why?” 

“Why not?” Harry said, looking up at Eric’s face. “Jan and Paulo are so happy, ain’t they? Maybe that’s what I need.” 

“Well, yeah, but - do you even like girls?” 

Harry sat back and frowned at Eric. “Do you think because I’ve only went out with boys I can’t be gay?” 

“No,” Eric said quickly, looking at Harry carefully. “You know I don’t think that. I’m just checking this is something you really want, Harry. I don’t want you or her to get hurt.” 

Harry opened her mouth to respond when the door went. She bounced up out of Eric’s lap and went to answer the door, beaming automatically at the sight of Dele on her doorstep. Where Eric was joggers and men’s scent, Dele was Dior handbag and tiny skirt and the smell of fruit, and she pushed into Harry’s house unapologetically, taking up room in that incredible way she always did. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she kicked off her Balenciaga trainers. “I didn’t want to come.” 

“Hi, Del,” Eric said, appearing in the doorway with her hands in her pockets, her smile all easy and relaxed the way it always was for Dele. Harry ignored the jealousy that look sparked in her chest and shoved them both into the living room, wishing for the millionth time she was nearing 6ft like them and not suffering in her 5’3 frame. 

Dele and Eric folded themselves onto Harry’s sofa, barely an inch of space between them. Eric put her hand on Dele’s exposed thigh for a second, a pat of familiarity, and Dele licked her lips at her, and Harry cleared her throat noisily, standing in front of them with her hands on her hips. 

“You okay, Winksy?” Dele asked, one perfect brow raised. “You look stressed.” 

“Harry’s got a tinder date,” Eric supplied, settling back against the cushions and resting one hand behind her head. “With a girl.” 

“Oh,” Dele said, her face moving into a mischievous grin. “Oh, _Harry._” 

“Yeah,” Harry huffed, trying not to stare at the fact Dele wasn’t wearing a bra. “And I don’t know what to do on it.” 

“It’s easy,” Dele shrugged, turning suddenly and tossing her long legs over Eric’s lap. “Just pretend it’s one of us.” 

“I can’t do that,” Harry said. “I’ll scare her off!” 

“You’re so cute, Winksy,” Dele laughed, her eyes fluttering as Eric placed a hand on her ankle. “It’s honestly no big deal. Can we see her profile?” 

Harry handed them her phone begrudgingly and the two of them scrolled through Katie’s profile, making quiet noises of approval. 

“She seems really nice,” Eric said, throwing the phone back to Harry. “I don’t think you need to be nervous, baby.” 

Harry ignored the way the pet name made her spine feel like jelly, and pouted frustratedly. “Well, yeah, but I don’t - I don’t know how - I can’t -“ 

“You don’t know how to shag her?” Dele asked. “Is that it?” 

Harry felt her face heat up, and she nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Oh, Harry,” Eric said, smiling patronisingly. “You’re gonna fuck her on the first date?” 

“No!” Harry cried. “No, but like - I might kiss her? And I don’t know, maybe we’ll go back together, and I don’t - can you just tell me? Can you just let me into the club, please? I mean, am I supposed to initiate? Is she? Are we supposed to discuss who’s a top and who’s a bottom to find out if we’re compatible? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!” 

“Relax,” Dele said, swinging her legs back onto the floor. “Aw Harry, just relax. Listen, it’s going to be okay. You don’t fuck her on the first date, not if you want it to last -“ 

“I disagree, Harry. If you’re feeling it, then go for it.” 

“Don’t listen to her,” Dele snapped. “Anyway - a kiss is fine on the first date, if you’re feeling it. Just - here, watch me and Eric.” Dele grabbed Eric’s wrist and pulled her forward, until they were sat on the edge of the sofa, face to face. “Just kind of...” Dele grinned lazily, swiping at her bottom lip, her eyes drifting from Eric’s own to her lips. “Just make it clear you’re thinking of her mouth, and then tilt your head a bit,” Dele leaned in slightly, and like a magnet, Eric’s own head tilted, her eyes growing dark, her hands moving of their own accord to settle one on Dele’s waist, one splaying across her bare thigh, finger tips nudging the edge of her ridiculous tiny skirt. “And then close the gap,” Dele muttered, leaning in and pressing her lips to Eric’s. 

Harry’s mouth went dry as she watched them kiss. Dele’s hands wound around Eric’s neck, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of her head as they kissed open mouthed, Dele still grinning a little bit. Harry waited for them to stop, but then Dele’s tongue slipped confidently against Eric’s, and they were making out, and Eric made a weird noise when Dele bit down on her bottom lip and tugged at it, and Eric’s hand slipped further up Dele’s thigh, fingers half covered by the pleats of the skirt, and Eric’s other hand was moving up Dele’s ribs, and Harry could see Dele’s nipples against her white T-shirt, and - 

She stepped forward and with a hand on both their foreheads, pushed them forcefully apart. “Okay, I get it,” Harry barked, only stepping back again when there was enough acceptable distance between them. “I get the point.” 

Eric was breathing heavily, and she wiped at her mouth whilst Dele grinned up at Harry with sparkling eyes. “Wanna practice?” 

“Practice?” 

“Wanna try and kiss us?” 

“Del,” Eric said carefully. Dele ignored her. 

“It’s up to you, Winksy. It’s better to practice with friends, than try it for the first time during the real thing and fuck up. But I’m only offering to help you out, so we can -“ 

“Okay,” Harry said, her heart thumping. “Yeah, it makes sense.” 

Dele moved up so that Harry could sit down between them and patted the couch. “Better kiss Eric first, I think she’ll knock me out if she doesn’t get you -“ 

“Shut up, Dele,” Harry and Eric said at the same time. 

Dele made a show of zipping her lips and Harry turned her body to Eric’s. She looked at Eric’s face - open, familiar, soft, her lips glistening. She did what Dele told her, tilting her head a bit, willing Eric to just take the lead. Eric brought her hand up to the side of Harry’s face, looked behind her once at Dele, and then leaned in and closed the gap. 

Eric tasted like apricots, and Harry knew that this was the taste of Dele’s Tom Ford lipgloss, the one she refused to share, and the thought of it made something flutter deep inside her, down between her legs and in her wrists and in her nipples. She leaned up without meaning to, almost trying to get onto her knees for leverage, her mouth opening and closing against Eric’s in the rhythm Eric was setting for them. Harry’s arms were hanging awkwardly at her sides and she jumped when Dele wrapped her hands around Harry’s wrists and leaned in close to her ear. 

“Touch her,” Dele whispered, her hair tickling Harry’s back. “Here.” Dele lifted Harry’s arms and put them on Eric’s waist. 

Harry could barely remember where she was, but all she knew was that she wanted more than Eric was giving her - this closed mouth kissing was killing her, and her pulse was jumping, and she licked at Eric’s bottom lip the way she’d seen Dele do, pressing her face in closer, frustrated when Eric didn’t open up. Harry heard herself whine and she frowned, frustrated. She pushed against Eric’s mouth harder, squeezing at her hips, coming up off the couch with her efforts - and then Eric put a hand in the centre of her chest and pushed, moved back. 

Harry looked at her in confusion. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Eric looked genuinely pained, and she opened and closed her mouth, no words coming out, but then Dele was pulling at Harry’s chin and turning her round and leaning in, and this was different - Dele was a different kisser, her hands moving up and down Harry’s arms, her tongue there and ready, licking into Harry’s mouth dirtily, and Harry felt herself getting wet, and maybe she didn’t need to go on a tinder date because maybe she was going to get with Eric and Dele, and that was all she really wanted anyway, and she was leaning into Dele, pushing her back against the arm of the chair, unable to kiss her enough, and Dele was slow and languid about it and Harry pressed her back hungrily until she was lying down, and she moved on top of her and somehow one of Dele’s thighs ended up between her legs and Harry pressed down against it experimentally, and she moaned into Dele’s mouth before she could stop herself - and then there were hands around Harry’s waist, hoisting her up and off and putting her back down at the other side of the couch. 

Harry blinked up at Eric with her chest heaving. Eric was looking at them darkly, her arms folded. Dele was still lying back on the couch, her skirt pushed up around her waist, and Harry tried really hard not to stare at her underpants - if you could call them that, considering how tiny they were - and Eric clapped her hands. 

“You were getting carried away, ladies. Del, pull your fucking skirt down, christ.” 

Dele sat up and pulled her skirt down demurely, face full of mischief. “Were you getting jealous, diet?” 

“No,” Eric snapped, pointedly not looking at Harry. “I just think - we didn’t come here for that. That isn’t why you asked us round, Harry, is it?” 

They both looked at Harry expectantly. Harry didn’t know what to say - if she said yes, would they be annoyed? Probably. Probably best to deny. “No,” Harry said, though it came out more like a question. “That’s not why.” 

“Alright, then,” Eric said, glancing down at the huge watch on her wrist. “We should go, Del. Harry, good luck for the date. Let us know how it goes, yeah?” 

Harry stared up at her in confusion. She didn’t want them to go, not at all, but she could see Eric didn’t want to stay, so she nodded. “Okay. Uh, thanks? For the advice.” 

“No problem,” Eric smiled tightly. “Del? Come on.” 

“Fucking hell, I’m coming,” Dele huffed. “Let us know, Winksy, yeah?” 

Harry nodded at her as Eric ushered Dele into the hall, both of them talking in low, urgent voices. Then the door opened and they were gone, and Harry was left on her couch wondering what the fuck had just happened. She went upstairs and climbed under her bed sheets, putting her hand in her pants and getting herself off imagining what would’ve happened if she’d just told them yes. That is why I asked you here. 

** 

Her date with Katie went well. 

Katie was who she said she was, which was good, and conversation flowed easily between them. Harry was fascinated hearing about Katie’s job as a teacher, and Katie was even more fascinated to hear about Harry’s life as premier league footballer. 

She was pretty and clever and nice, and Harry liked her, she did, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Dele’s legs and Eric’s hands and how they both tasted. She did her best to distract herself, nipping the inside of her elbows whenever her thoughts went back to Dele’s thigh on her clit or the taste of apricot lip gloss, and if Katie noticed that she was a bit distracted, she didn’t say anything. 

They kissed at the end of the date - a quick, chaste peck on the lips. Katie asked if Harry would like to see her again and Harry nodded and smiled, telling her she’d text her. 

She got home that night in a daze, watched a fuck tonne of porn, and fell asleep with her hand down her pants. 

** 

Dele barrelled into the changing room at work the next morning, huge brown eyes peering around the room until she spotted Harry. She came right over and plopped herself down on the bench, smelling like vanilla and mouthwash and coconuts. Harry hated it. 

“So?” Dele grinned. “How’d it go?” 

“Fine,” Harry replied, unable to look her in the eye. “Katie was really nice. Probably gonna see her again.” 

“Diet’ll hate that,” Dele said gleefully. “She’s such a melt.” 

“Hate what?” Harry asked, neck tingling. “Does she not want me to be gay or something?” 

“No, she does,” Dele said. “She fancies you.” 

Harry’s cheeks were red hot, and she looked down at her football boots. “What? No she - what?” 

“That’s why she made us leave. She thinks you’re just experimenting and the whole thing is going to blow up in our faces.” 

“I’m not,” Harry said too quickly, looking at Dele with wide eyes. “I’m not experimenting. I do like girls -“ 

“I believe you,” Dele laughed. “And Winksy, I fancy you too. But you knew that. I fancy everyone.” 

Harry didn’t get a chance to respond. Dele was up and off to bother Harry Kane, leaping on her back and putting slobbery wet kisses all over her face. Harry went to the bathrooms and splashed cool water over her face, completely and utterly astonished. 

** 

Eric asked Harry nonchalantly at lunch how the date had gone, and Harry gawped up at her in awkward silence. Harry wanted Eric to lift her up and throw her around and make her come, and she had never been able to even entertain those desires before but if Dele was being honest then maybe now she could, maybe she could have Eric’s fingers inside her, and - 

“Winksy? I said how was the date?” 

“Good,” Harry croaked. “Uh - Yeah. Gonna see her again.” 

“Nice,” Eric smiled pleasantly, getting back to her salad. 

Harry frowned, confused. Maybe Dele was lying to her, then - maybe it was all a big Dele joke. She’d done this kind of thing before, always thinking it was hilarious - like the time she told Sonny Eden Hazard wanted to fuck her and Sonny slid into his DMs and got blocked - and maybe this was another one of those times. 

But then Eric looked down at Harry again, and there was something so sincere and raw in her eyes, and Harry thought that maybe, just maybe, Dele was telling the truth this time. 

The rest of their day went as normal - Harry and Dele and Eric moved around each other as they always did, Dele in her short shorts and Eric like a one woman mountain and Harry with her sleeves down over her hands, watching Paulo and Jan and feeling herself get turned on just by the sight of them, feeling herself get turned on just by the thought of Eric and Dele fucking each other, fucking _her_. 

And she really couldn’t go on like this. It’d been so long since she’d had sex, and she was so fucking close to getting what she’d always wanted, and Dele and Eric were torturing her on purpose, she was sure of it, cos Dele kept slapping her ass and Eric kept rucking her sleeves up over her shoulders and Harry needed to do something. 

She didn’t hang around at the end of training. Harry got right in her car and drove home, slamming her front door closed a little too hard. She spent ages in the shower, doing a hair mask and shaving her body smooth, how she liked it. She got out the shower and did a face mask, took some naked photos of herself in the mirror before deleting them again. She pulled on some underpants and an old T-shirt and was about to heat up a meal the nutritionist had left when she decided enough was enough. 

Harry went back upstairs and pulled on some leggings and her bunny slippers, gathered her keys and purse off the side table, and drove off to Eric’s house. 

Dele’s car was there, as Harry knew it would be. Dele and Eric always had dinner on a Tuesday night, as was their routine. Harry knocked Eric’s door quietly enough that if they didn’t hear it she could slip away and pretend she’d tried, but it just hadn’t worked out. She’d go home and cook her chicken and text Katie and - 

Dele answered the door in a little pair of Gucci shorts, a string tie bikini top, and a pair of knee length white tube socks, her hair a crazy explosion of caramel curls behind her. 

“Winksy!” 

“Hi,” Harry said, puffing our her chest. “I’m here to see you and Eric.” 

“You’ve come to the right place,” Dele said, holding open the door. “Diet! Winksy’s here!” 

Harry stepped into the house, leaning down to pet the dog when she came clattering up to them. Dele locked the front door again and put her hand on Harry’s neck, scratching absently at her head. Harry leaned into it, noting that Dele’s belly was round the way it got after she’d eaten. Before she could second guess herself, Harry pressed up onto her toes and put her mouth against Dele’s. 

Dele made a noise of surprise, but then she softened, hands either side of Harry’s face. She kissed back carefully, mouth warm and easy. Harry twisted her fingers in Dele’s hair, let her hand ghost over the soft skin on her back. 

“Ach hem.” 

Harry stepped away from Dele and turned to Eric, who was watching them with raised eyebrows. She was wearing joggers that were low slung on her hips, the band of her boxers peeking over the edge, and a soft white T-shirt that looked so buttery Harry wanted to nuzzle it. 

“Kiss me,” Harry breathed, stepping over and into Eric’s space. “Properly. Please.” 

“Harry,” Eric said, her eyes searching Harry’s face. “Babe. Baby. I don’t think -“ 

“Please,” Harry begged, desperate, her eyes on Eric’s mouth. “Fuck, please. Please -“ 

Eric kissed her carefully, tentatively, cautiously. Harry needed her to just let go, open up, put her bloody walls down. She whimpered against Eric’s mouth, pushing forward into her body. 

“Show me,” Harry said quietly. “Show me how to have sex with a girl.” 

Eric and Dele looked at each other over Harry’s head, and she felt herself growing impatient, getting frustrated. She wouldn’t handle it if they said no again, she’d be mortified. 

“C’mere,” Dele said, holding out a hand for Harry to take. “Come upstairs. I’ll show you, I don’t care.” 

Harry looked over her shoulder at Eric as Dele lead her upstairs, imploring her with her eyes - come with us. Please, come with us. Eric was watching them expressionlessly, her hands in her pockets, and then Harry couldn’t see her anymore. 

Dele pulled Harry down onto Eric’s bed and smoothed her hair back out of her face, kissing her lips a couple of times. “You sure, Harry?” 

“I want it so much,” Harry said, embarrassed. “I don’t know why you guys won’t just -“ 

Dele shut her up with her mouth. They lay side by side against Eric’s pillows and made out for a while, Harry’s body singing with need. Dele was everywhere, all the time, and Harry whined when Dele snuck her hand up Harry’s T-shirt, her long fingers finding a nipple and squeezing. Just like that, Harry could feel herself throbbing with desire, her chest pushing into Dele’s hand, her tongue licking at Dele’s eagerly. 

“So responsive,” Dele murmured, kissing Harry’s neck. “You always like this?” 

Harry didn’t answer that, because she couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that Dele was pushing the T-shirt up over her tits, bringing her mouth down around a nipple and worrying at it with her teeth, licking at it back and forth with her tongue. Harry panted underneath her, thinking there was a high chance she was going to come from this alone. 

“Such nice tits,” Dele said. “Always wanted to suck your tits, Harry.” 

“Fuck,” Harry sighed, eyes fixed on the light shade, willing herself not to come before she’d even got her clothes off. “Fuck, Del, I’m so -“ 

She trailed off as she saw Eric’s shape in the doorway, her mouth pressed in a tight line. Dele looked around at the sound of Harry’s voice coming to a halt and nodded at Eric. 

“Gonna stop being a freak and join in?” 

Eric said nothing, so Dele sat back on her heels and put her fingers in the waist band of Harry’s leggings. Harry lifted her hips and slid her legs out of the black fabric, cheeks pinking when Dele gaped down at her underwear. 

“Shit,” Dele muttered. 

“This is what I mean,” Eric said firmly, coming in and closing the bedroom door. “This is what I fucking mean, Del!” 

“What is it?!” Harry cried, suddenly feeling very self conscious. She wondered if there was a period stain on them, or a hole or something - but they were pretty new, these undies. She’d gotten them from M&S the week before, white cotton briefs with a little pink bow on the front. 

“This is - fuck, Harry,” Dele groaned, leaning down and biting her hip bone. “You’re so sexy.” 

“Is something wrong with my knickers?!” Harry huffed, trying to pull her leggings over herself to hide them. “What’s wrong with them?!” 

“No,” Dele said, moving Harry’s hands away. “No, don’t hide them. Shit, Harry, it’s - they’re -“ 

“They’re fucking virginal,” Eric said. “What the fuck, Winksy?” 

“They’re fucking sexy,” Dele added quickly. “Harry, this is so fucking sexy.” 

“They’re just white pants!” 

“They’re like something a school girl would wear,” Eric said, and Harry was about to argue that grown ups wear pants like this all the fucking time when Dele touched her. 

It was a light touch, the backs of her fingers over Harry’s crotch, but it took the breath out of her lungs. She instinctively opened her legs again, and watched as Dele moved her thumb up and down the length of Harry over her cotton knickers, the fabric growing ever so slightly translucent. Dele was watching in fascination, her eyes transfixed on Harry’s vagina. Then she brought her thumb down harder right where Harry’s clit was and Harry moaned. 

“She’s so fucking wet, Eric,” Dele said, eyes unblinking. “I can feel it through the knickers. She’s so -“ 

“Dele, I -“ 

Dele kissed Harry again, then, her fingers still ghosting up and down Harry’s slit, pushing against her clit occasionally, causing Harry to squirm underneath her. Harry was panting into Dele’s mouth, her heart doing over time, her hips bucking forward against Dele’s hand. 

“Let’s get this off,” Dele said, pulling Harry’s T-shirt off and dropping it. “And these,” she breathed, biting her own lip. “Wanna do the honours, Dier?” 

Eric said nothing so Dele pulled Harry’s underpants off herself, groaning a little bit at the sight of Harry naked before her. “So pretty,” Dele said, rolling Harry’s nipples. “Fuck. Such a pretty little pussy.” 

“Please,” Harry said. “Please.” 

“Yeah,” Dele said, kneeling down with her ass in the air and kissing the inside of Harry’s thighs. “You want me to eat you out, Winksy?” 

“Fuck,” Harry managed, fingers twisting in the bed sheets. She glanced at Eric behind them, willing her to come over and do something. “Please fuck me, guys.” 

Dele put one little kiss to Harry’s vagina and then she ran her tongue across it, right from her hole to her clit, ending with a little flick right on the bundle of nerves. Harry gasped and fell back against the mattress, feeling like she was floating on a big fluffy cloud. Dele’s tongue was so good, better than anything Harry had ever felt before - John ate pussy like he was trying to get ice cream out the bottom of a cone - and Harry was so close it was fucking embarrassing. Dele couldn’t press her face any closer if she tried, and she was moaning into it too, her big brown eyes on Harry’s every now and again like she wanted to check Harry liked it. 

Harry’s legs were shaking, the feeling of having Dele’s tongue licking at her like that so overwhelmingly intimate and sexy that she was scared she’d never feel this good again in her life. It was so noisy too, Harry was so wet and Dele was so eager and the sound of it, their joint moans and Harry’s wetness and Dele’s tongue created the most perfect symphony, the most amazing thing Harry had ever heard. 

Just when Harry didn’t think it could get any better, Eric murmured “fuck it,” and got up, standing behind Dele and watching with hooded eyes as Harry writhed on the bed and Dele licked her out. Eric put her fingers in the waist of Dele’s shorts and pulled them half way down her thighs. Harry watched with wide eyes as Eric moved Dele’s thong to the side and slid a finger into her, Eric’s eyebrows rising. 

“You’re fucking soaking, Del,” she said, and Harry didn’t know if Eric was proud or jealous. 

Dele just groaned in acknowledgment and continued what she was doing, going at it like she’d never had anything so spectacular in her mouth in her life. Harry had to bite the inside of her cheek when the sounds of Eric’s thick fingers in Dele’s wet hole added to the room, the sound of her arousal so fucking sexy that Harry could feel herself tipping over the edge, orgasm building, and then Eric said “Hold off, Harry,” and Harry wailed and let her head fall back against the mattress, thinking of unsexy things, not the beautiful woman between her legs or the gorgeous woman fingering her behind them. 

And then Eric was there, at Harry’s face, and she held up two glistening fingers. Harry opened her mouth and Eric breathed out and slipped them in, her lips parting when Harry sucked, tasting Dele and Eric all at once, and Eric was saying “You fucking kill me, you fucking kill me,” and Harry was canting her hips up against Dele’s face and coming. 

She came for ten years, she came for ten seconds, she cried Dele’s name and Eric’s name and Poch’s name and her own name, every name she’d ever heard, and her body was jelly and stars and concrete and feathers and she’d never felt so fucking good in her life. 

When Harry had the mind to open her eyes again, Dele and Eric were kissing. Eric had lost the white T-shirt and Dele was out of the shorts, and Harry watched them happily, her vagina giving a sad twitch when Eric slid her fingers down between Dele’s legs and rubbed at her slowly. 

“Let’s show Harry how to use a strap on,” Dele said, kissing Eric’s collar bones and pulling on the string of her bikini top. “She wants to know everything.” 

Eric looked like she wanted to protest but she turned to the dresser and pulled the thing out anyway. Harry gasped at it - it looked huge, even in Eric’s hands. It was baby blue and had something black on the side, and Harry realised with a gasp that it was the Spurs logo. 

“Oh my - where did you get that?!” She gasped, sitting up on her knees. 

“Eric got me it for Christmas,” Dele smirked, playing with her own tits. “Are you back with us now?” 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, climbing off the bed and pulling Dele down into a kiss. She was so unbelievably gorgeous Harry was scared to touch her - her tits and her stomach and her legs and her hair and her face just overwhelmingly stunning. 

“Touch me, Harry,” Dele said, and Harry brought a shaking hand between Dele’s legs, touching over the lace of her underwear first. When she felt a bit braver she put her hand down inside Dele’s pants, let her finger slip along Dele’s lips experimentally, gasping a little bit at how wet Dele was. She found her hole and with a deep breath she pushed in, completely in awe that she was feeling another vagina, soft and slippery and hot around her finger. Dele clenched around her and kissed Harry’s neck, and Harry remembered to move her finger a couple of seconds later, hand meeting against the resistance of Dele’s soaked pants as she tried to finger her, finding it entirely frustrating and entirely sexy. 

Then Eric was there, and she was naked and she was wearing the strap on, and Harry’s brain went offline, the image of Eric with a big cock too much, too fucking sexy to cope with. Dele was on her knees in front of it instantly, hand on the dildo, mouth wrapping around it. 

“Dele’s a fucking cock slut,” Eric explained, her hand resting in Dele’s curls. “She loves it.” 

Harry leaned up and kissed Eric on the mouth in answer, and Eric kissed her back properly this time, with tongue, and Harry was moaning and Dele was moaning around the blue spurs cock in her mouth and Eric was keeping both of them steady at the same time, as if they were born to be taken care of by her, which Harry thought maybe they were. 

Eric lay back on the bed and Dele rolled her underwear down and off and patted Harry on the cheek as she got up and climbed over Eric’s body, her hand holding the dildo steady as she sunk onto it like she’d done this a thousand times before. Harry watched quietly as Eric held Dele’s hips, her eyes watching carefully for signs of discomfort. The blue dildo slid into Dele easily given how wet she was, the stretch of her around it making Harry twinge again. She took it all the way before licking her fingers and rubbing at her own clit, tossing her masses of hair over her shoulders and beginning to move in tandem with Eric. 

Harry wondered if maybe she should leave - she’d had her orgasm, and clearly the two of them were some level of together, no matter what they said, and Eric had been unsure the whole time, but then Eric was saying “c’mere Harry, baby,” and Harry was going over dutifully. 

“Sit on my face,” Eric said. “But face Del, yeah?” 

Harry wasn’t sure she could handle this, but then she looked at Dele’s tits bouncing and her head thrown back and she climbed over Eric cautiously, settling down, waiting - and there was Eric’s tongue, and Harry was slightly too sensitive but Dele leaned forward and kissed the whimpers out of her mouth, and Eric was so good at this that soon Harry could feel the heat building again, and she pulled back from kissing Dele so she could watch her riding dick, leaning down and rubbing absently at Eric’s nipples as she licked at Harry’s clit mercilessly, bringing her closer and closer, and Harry had to fight so hard not to bear down on Eric’s face and smother her, she had to use every bit of strength she had to stay on her knees, and then she was coming, hard, harder than before, and it was so good it wouldn’t matter if she died then and there. Her life had peaked. 

Dele came shortly after with Eric’s thumb on her clit and the spurs dildo inside her, and she was a fucking _squirter_, coming hard down the side of the dildo, dripping wetly over Eric’s pussy and thighs and bed sheets. Harry and Eric made out whilst Dele untied the dildo, peppering kisses over Eric’s stomach and slipping two fingers into Eric easily. 

“Wanna do the honours, Winksy?” Dele asked, and Harry nodded, taking Dele’s place between Eric’s legs. 

“You don’t have to,” Eric said meekly, and Harry shot her a death glare. 

“I want to,” she said, leaning down and licking at her once before she could get up and say no. “But I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I feel bad if you can’t come, so just let me know if you -“ 

“Oh, she’ll come alright,” Dele scoffed, lounging on the pillows. “Since it’s you.” 

“Shut UP Del,” Eric hissed, But that was all Harry needed to spur her on. 

She stuck her face between Eric’s legs and went at it. It was no good to be shy, so she pressed her face in like she was starving for it, and it was weird but good, so sexy. Eric tasted musky and clean and pink and Harry didn’t know if she was on the clit but Eric was moaning anyway, pulling her hair, gasping her name. Harry sank a finger into her and sucked down hard on what she was sure was the clit, and Eric was coming with the lowest, sexiest moan Harry had ever heard. 

They lay on the bed for a while, coming down, getting their breath back. Harry wanted to go again but Dele was being restless and talking about nipping to Tesco on the way home, talking about training tomorrow. Eric was quiet again, retreating into herself, and Harry couldn’t look at her as she got up and pulled her knickers on again, wincing at the cold wetness of them. 

“Is that it, then?” Eric asked, sitting up and pulling her knees up to her chest. “You’re gonna go and fuck Katie now, or you’ve got the lesbian thing out your system and you’re gonna go back to John?” 

Harry stared at Eric in disbelief. “Eric!” She snapped. She felt hot tears in her eyes, her throat closing up. She was humiliated and angry and this wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. 

“How dare you,” Harry said, her voice shaking. “I do not - just because it’s taken me til now to do something with a girl, doesn’t make me straight, Eric. I thought you’d know better than that. This wasn’t an experiment, you fucking dick head. I like you both! I’ve always liked you both! How dare you insinuate that I’m not - that I don’t know my own -“ 

“Harry,” Eric said, voice less hard. “I -“ 

“No,” Harry said, pulling her leggings on inside out. “No, fuck you.” 

She didn’t bother looking for her T-shirt. Harry thundered down the stairs, the sounds of Dele shouting at Eric ringing down after her. Harry grabbed her keys and stormed out the front door, starting her car and stalling it three times in a row. Then the engine wouldn’t turn on, and she thought maybe she’d flooded it, and she screamed into her hands and sobbed against the steering wheel until the door opened and a pair of hands pulled her out the seat, sushing her soothingly, whispering sorries into her hair, carrying her back into the house. 

“Fuck you, Eric,” Harry cried, pressing her face into Eric’s neck. “You fucking bitch.” 

“I’m sorry,” Eric said, bringing her onto the sofa. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was lashing out. I just - I really really like you, Harry. I’m scared of losing you.” 

“You’re so dumb,” Harry said into Eric’s skin. “I love you. How could you lose me?” 

“She’s a fucking moron,” Dele said from somewhere else. “Run now while you have the chance, Winksy.” 

Harry laughed then, sighing. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked around the room, looking at Eric’s sad face and Dele’s pissed off one. “You like me?” 

“Yes,” they said simultaneously. “Well,” Dele added. “I think you’re alright. I only fuck Eric when I’m bored, so I guess if -“ 

“Del!” 

“I’m kidding,” Dele grinned, biting into a biscuit Harry hadn’t noticed she had. “I like you Harry. Dump that fucking Katie. Be my girlfriend. Be our girlfriend.” 

Harry looked at Eric. “If you want,” Eric said. “Only if you want to. As long as we can promise we’ll be good no matter what happens.” 

“I can’t promise that,” Harry said. “But we can try. I can promise I’ll try.” 

Eric kissed her, and Harry kissed back, and then Dele climbed up between them like the oversized lap dog she was. 

And they all lived happily ever after. 


End file.
